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Literature
The Secrets of Broken Fractions
One day we'll share secrets
One day, the broken fractions we collect we'll share
And be filled with wonder at what they could become, and be a little bitter as it does not come
One day, those fractions will make sense
And the incomplete will be complete.
What I would give for that fleshy fraction of myself to "return".
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Literature
Teach Me The Dark Things
Teach me the dark things
the things that make me hungry
the things done in the light
the curves and the softness
the hard edges
the shining pieces
the things that make me sad
the things I hide
the things I am afraid of
My heart crows in the darkness
I am alone only for the sake of the disjointed half-
mirrored windows that keep
me from-
you
us
them
if they are there
if  it isn't just broken
and distorted
and tinted reflections
of me.
If you are there,
on the other side of that mirror,
someone, anyone, you in particular
teach me.
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Literature
My little game of regicide
My little game of regicide-
You'll never know how it goes.
You'll never know the scale.
I hope to one day remember everything I have sought out,
so that I can use it for the endgame, oh glorious Finale!
In such a Game as this I cannot even know the outcome.
Moves too subtle and insane- don't even dare to figure it out.
Unless you feel game to it. In that case...
Feel free to join me.
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Mature content
I Want to Hear Your Breath Catch In Your Throat :iconsynaesthetic1:Synaesthetic1 1 0
Literature
Never let them lie to you about your scars.
Scars
No end
No beginning.
Does nobody understand-
what scars really are?
I have found it once before,
but never the same again-
"A scar is what makes you whole"
Even when puberty sets in, there is something to fix your fears
When your self-image sucks, the scars will be there
If you tried to end your life, the scars will heal you.
When you have a child, the scars will be there as your body repairs
We act like its ugly.
We act like its wrong.
But its what our bodies do for us
When things go wrong, it makes them right.
Who we are is scars.
The flesh that fills the hole,
A memory of pain,
and the thing that takes it's place.
Scars are beautiful.
Never let anyone tell you differently.
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Literature
Scars of My Ghost: I carve rage into my flesh.
I carve my rage into my flesh
My angst
No edge
No knife
No blood
No scar
But still I carve.
I am not whole. But I am not sure if I am broken.
I do not understand.
I would turn my arms into a mosaic to reflect the shards of my soul.
Is this a cruel attempt to heal? This isn't a dream, a goal, and ambition.
I can feel the scars like ghostly etchings on my arms.
Bare for the world to see and unmarked.
What are these scars that I feel?
What are these newfound marks ab-carved into my skin? They are terrifying, delicious.
Is my soul trying to tell me something? Am I trying to share the scars of those I love? Or tell my own story?- beyond the marks that my body leaves on itself, the marks by which cruel fools judge.
My scars, my pride... but is my pride a lie then?
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Literature
My Heart, My Greed, My Love
My heart...
My hunger, e'er deepening
My rage, e'er deepening
My love, e'er swelling
My heart, e'er swelling
My eyes, e'er opening
My lips, e'er whispering
My ears, e'er listening
My heart, e'er closing
My mind, e'er snatching
My soul, e'er troubled
My spirit, e'er content
My heart, e'er doubting
My words, e'er promising
My hands, e'er pressing
My feet, e'er trudging
My heart, e'er holding
My heart...
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Literature
Returning to what I never had.
I want myself back.
I want control again.
But did I ever have it?
I want to know I am free. I want to be on my own.
But never alone.
I don't know if I should demand it back,
or beg that it be so.
I would kill for the answers,
But I would rather live for them.
Because part of me still believes that there is joy in this world.
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Literature
Sometimes I wonder if marriage
Sometimes I wonder if marriage isn't the actual key step to making a relationship mean something more. I wonder if being "in love" is just too emotionally posessive.
The whole "freelove" idea is cute, but it is impossible to maintain.Other people can be ignorant. You can be ignorant. Other people can get confused. You can get confused. Ultimatly, the dream rules, even as we are awake. It has to end. Perfection is a lie. All we can do is hope.
Maybe that is the point of traditional marriage- to keep it safe and close, no matter what. So, lack of knowledge or lack of pain?
Mind you, I am writing as someone conservative and religious but who wants to explore. This can easily make me hypocritical.
But at the same time....
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Literature
A nightmare to dog my thoughts
A nightmare to dog my thoughts
Give me a place to rest and I will give you the world
A nightmare of poison and madness and cruelty
A nightmare that paralyzes my will, and brings me fear
Why should I feel something when for so long I have felt nothing?
Is it the madness? The unreason? The idea that so many would wish harm on one?
I know of madness, but the kind that grows and gives. One filled with humor and webs of hints and double-talk. Not this mindless annhilism. The persuit, the hunt of human life on the basis of something worse than hatred, worse than apathy. I cannot even imagine it, I could only see it.
And now I am unhinged, unnerved. I need my resting place, I think. But I still do not know if I know what that means.
But I saw them. Jetting planes and missiles and carry-tanks of slimy poison for spraying, and masks in gas and shower-houses where they were persued, where I was with them, and four of us hid in a nondescript corner of plastic screen and copper piping.
And relief
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Literature
Wound Up In Your Tangled Soul
Wound up in you
I want your tangled soul
I want your mind and thoughts
your every pain and fear
I do not accept
I will always judge
But I want you. I want you as you are.
As you want to be, want to see, that is who I want.
My legs tangled in your ankles, hand on the small of your back.
Your hair in my eyes.
Your forehead on my lips.
Your breath on my neck.
You see your eyes in mine.
Your breasts to my chest.
Your curves and your sighs.
Your warmth, your smile, the silly things you say. I can only take them seriously; its your that I am here for.
The story in your scars, the poison in your tears, I want you to fill the bitter cup so I can drink deep.
The stranger things,
like that streak of green in your hair, that pierced lip or that hole in your ear.
The tea you drink.
The sad thoughts you think.
That random laugh. That morbid word. The smell of sugar and oil, the smell of your sweat. The meat you won't eat. The way you style your hair. The odd word you use.
I want it all.
When will y
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Literature
Noumenon
What have I become?
The endless rush for the truth in absolute is crushing.
I read of leptons and well-field farms.
I read of Buddhas of gilded mud-brick.
I hunt for gods and men
And men among gods
And gods among men.
Sewing.
Glass beads.
Mad cards for playing.
Mad words for saying.
An effort to defy anything quotidian, anything comfortable and regular.
All to push it one step further.
All to get one step closer to an absolute.
Absolute Good. Absolute Evil. To finally have my life defined beyond the aegis of doubt.
To finally call myself by myself.
To no longer burn copied fragments of others' souls to fuel my own face.
To no longer scavenge names and smiles from the breath and light in front of friends' faces.
To no longer rely on a mirror image to see who I am.
I have outlasted the beloved, and outwitted the cutting tongues. But have I really?
I will not be enslaved by an invisible line of requirement.
But what will I become?
All the answers lie beyond the reach of eye and hand, tong
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Literature
Fricative Madness
What indecent fricative madness is this?
When decency has gone beyond decency
Purposes repurposed and cast aside.
Meaning cast aside before it ever had a chance
unrisen, unbidden, forgotten amidst the glamered glittered lust.
What indecent fricative madness is this?
That escapes my lips despite my wrenching jaws.
That wrenches my sides even as I try to stifle it with my tongue.
Where is the truth we were supposed to build upon?
Where is the reason we claimed to have, to justify ourselves upon the ruins of those before?
Some, they have not even passed.
We are lost to the truth of it- the gaping holes in our foundation, how hollow our scaffolds with facades of wholeness.
Our footsteps do not crack with echoes, so well-kept is the lie. The covers are unbent, the pages unperused even.
And so the fricative madness escapes between the struggling promenades of my teeth, irrumating out past my clenching throat.
I need to scream, but though I have a mouth I will not.
Taste the fricative madness
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Mature content
Vampire :iconsynaesthetic1:Synaesthetic1 0 0

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You're Not Alone



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Synaesthetic1
Perfection is a Lie
United States
I'm no visual artist. At least not yet. I'll figure that out later. No, I'm a Connoisseur. I'm like a happy forum troll. If I don't like your work, I won't say anything, unless I find it ignorantly crude and/or offensive. If I like it, I might. If I really like it I will. If I find it evocative, then I will rant. Enjoy. :D
1. Somebody stealing my last chunk of dark chocolate
2. Uppity bleeding-heart authors that get offended and rage-block you
3. idiot trolls who assist the above authors and whom you piss off in the first place
4. the same above on deviantArt
5. I was all for leaving the arguement at that and enjoying their art anyay. And then they rage-block me.

It was a creative and decently-written story anyway. Their loss.

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:iconglimja:
Glimja Featured By Owner Mar 3, 2015  Professional General Artist
Oh, Thanks for your WATCH!! It made my day~~~ XD

Heart Love Heart Love Heart Love 
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:iconsynaesthetic1:
Synaesthetic1 Featured By Owner Mar 10, 2015
:)
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:iconsewandrere:
sewandrere Featured By Owner May 29, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the watch :D
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:iconsewandrere:
sewandrere Featured By Owner May 29, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the fav :D
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:iconjwiesner:
JWiesner Featured By Owner May 14, 2013  Professional
Thank you very much for the watch!! :D
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:iconpajunen:
Pajunen Featured By Owner Apr 1, 2013
Thank you for the :+devwatch:
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:iconjanara-emerata:
Janara-Emerata Featured By Owner Feb 27, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Oi.
Much thankful for the fave.
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:iconsynaesthetic1:
Synaesthetic1 Featured By Owner Feb 27, 2013
2 is too many to love with something like that. So I want to reach where I can, no matter how small.
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:iconslenders:
Slenders Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2012
You have triggered my eyes, young one.

Always watching, Sincerely,
Slenderman.
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:iconsynaesthetic1:
Synaesthetic1 Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2012
I thank you, eyeless one. I must say, there is not much thusfar. I collect and observe.
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